Most Fragrant in the Wind
"The seasons are changing — it’s there on the wind. We find socks again. We clean out the flowerbeds, plow up more of the garden, tend to the trellis with all its last blooms.
Beauty, it can be a strange flower, unfurling in the hard seasons — most fragrant in the wind."
This is a portion of a pot of flowers sitting before a storefront in the small town of Cape Charles, VA., one of the last exits before arriving at the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, heading toward Norfolk. I used to travel that road many times while my parents were still living; the first leg of a twelve-hour journey to their home in South Carolina. They spent their wedding night in Cape Charles, more than 61 years ago. I think of them when I pass the town, more so than ever as I am now in the Autumn of my life.